Angry Patterns
by Aldira
Summary: Harry stepped away from the music stand, sitting next to Sirius, and when he made no move to scoot away, the teen sidled on closer until their thighs brushed against each other. All he got was a quirked eyebrow for the daring move. Musician!AU. Slash.


Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Warnings: Slash.

Note: Written for A History of Muggles Second Task (Write about an adolescent's first attempts at being more promiscuous) using the Gringotts prompt "We're a mess, and I love that about us. I don't want to be perfect. I want to be us."

WC: 2993

 **Angry Patterns**

Harry glared at the two laughing couple on the other side of the room. Music blared from the speakers, the bass loud enough that he could feel it in his veins. He knocked back the punch, nose scrunching up at the sour taste. When Sirius leaned closer to the girl's face, whispering into her ear and making her giggle and smack his arm playfully, the hand gripping his red cup tightened, denting the flimsy plastic. Even if he wanted to turn away, his eyes stubbornly latched onto them, keen on torturing him with images of the two pressed together. A deep, irrational something bubbled in his chest, and Harry found himself hating Tonks even though he never spoke more than five words to her. He knew she was happily engaged (to a Remus Lupin, if Harry remembered correctly), but that didn't seem to deter Sirius from flirting with her. His eyes bore holes into the two, shooting daggers at the arm draped casually over the thin shoulders and how Sirius was leaning _way too close to her they were at a party for crying out loud it's too bloody intimate for this setting why don't they go find a room Sirius wasn't even her coach he was Harry's—_

He jerked when a hand tapped his arm, wide eyes staring into murky blue ones. His shoulders relaxed slightly. Luna was one of the younger contestants, and they kept each other company before the audition process. It was a shame they ended up on different teams, but Harry thought McGonagall would suit Luna's style of singing more than Sirius anyway.

She looked up at him with strangely knowing eyes, a mysterious quirk to her lips. The flowing white dress from her earlier performance was stunning, and he quietly agreed with the many online posts comparing her to an angel.

"We made it to the Top 12," Luna said, tilting her head curiously at him. "Why aren't you happy?"

Harry relaxed his steel grip on the cup, taking a deep breath and releasing it— it came out as a sigh.

"I'm happy," he said, smile more of a grimace than anything. Luna didn't look convinced, but she chose not to comment on it. Instead, she followed his gaze to the source of his current teenage angst. She hummed, taking in their close proximity and Harry's tense form beside her.

"You don't have to worry about him, you know," she reassured him. Although Harry winced at his obviousness, he knew Luna wouldn't go spreading rumors. She was a quiet creature that was often overlooked but knew more than she let on. "This is how he normally acts."

"I know," Harry said, bristling in agitation, "but that doesn't make it any easier to see him draping himself over people."

Jerkily crossing his arms over his chest, he fumed silently, hands balling into tight fists. When Sirius planted a teasing kiss on Tonks's cheek, Harry scowled, giving a stilted 'excuse me' to Luna before marching to the food table, sick of watching the affectionate display. Snatching a cookie from one of the many plates decorating the table, he munched on the treat unhappily, uncaring if he made a mess on his costume. The strobing lights made it difficult to see, and Harry doubted anyone would care either way; they were too busy releasing the stress from tonight's events.

A happy bundle of energy bounded over, serving himself a cup of punch, arm brushing his, and Harry startled at the contact. Cedric shot a winning smile, giving him a teasing jab in his side. He took a big gulp from his drink before turning to Harry, running a hand through his dark brown hair boyishly. A sheen of sweat was plastered to his skin, giving him that youthful glow, and Harry was struck by how handsome he looked.

"Hey, Harry. How are you?" he asked, still with that attractive curl to his mouth, and Harry refrained from staring at his lips. This close up, Harry could draw constellations in the tiny freckles on his face and the beautiful swirl of colors in his grey eyes captivated him.

"I'm doing fine," Harry managed to say. "And you?"

"Great! I didn't think I would make it this far, if I'm being honest," Cedric admitted, ducking his head almost shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm relieved that I'm here though."

He leaned against the wall, shoulder knocking into Harry's. Eyes roving over the room, Cedric took in the jubilant atmosphere, breaking into small chuckles at Seamus and Hagrid as they battled head to head in a drinking contest. Despite Hagrid's earlier assertion of an alcohol-free night, the young Irish man somehow roped him into chugging large pints, attracting the attention of everyone present. Seamus was in tip-top shape, if a bit flushed, but Hagrid tripped over his own feet, swaying precariously as he stood in one spot. Hearing a soft, amused huff, Harry turned his head to see Cedric looking at him, eyes crinkling attractively with his boyish grin. A hand reached out, fingers brushing against his jaw, and Harry's breath hitched when Cedric leaned in closer. For a moment, his mind blanked out; the electricity that traveled through his body with that one touch just short circuited all capability of thought. His world consisted of Cedric and only Cedric, of the pretty quirk of his lips, of the teasing glint in those half mast eyes. Harry let out a shuddering exhale when a thumb swiped across his lower lip, and his tongue instinctively followed its path to wet his suddenly dry mouth.

And as suddenly as he leaned in, Cedric backed away.

"You had crumbs all over your face," he explained with a half smile, returning to his position against the wall. Harry remained in his frozen spot, staring blankly at the other boy before forcing himself to relax. Only to tense up again when a pair of hands descended onto his shoulders, giving them a firm squeeze.

"What are you boys up to?" he asked, voice smooth yet rough with that hint of huskiness to make both men and women weak in their knees. Harry managed to hold back a shiver.

"Hey, Sirius," Harry said with a grin, leaning into the arm around his shoulders.

"Mr. Black," Cedric greeted politely, only to have the rockstar wave it off.

"Look, I may be older than you guys, but I'm not _old_ ," he said, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, nice job on your performance, Cedric. Looks like McGonagall's doing something good with you."

The boy chuckled, nodding his thanks.

"And you, my little golden star," Sirius praised, hand darting out and ruffling Harry's hair, messing it up even more, "rocked the socks off of every single person out there! Did you see Snivellus's face? God, what I wouldn't give to have taken a picture of that ugly mug. It'd look right at home on my dart board, don't you think?"

"Hey! Watch the hair," Harry laughed, trying to swat away the offending hand, pouting at his mussed up hair.

"Oh I see, getting all high and mighty now that you made it, huh? Don't you get cheeky with me," Sirius said, narrowing his twinkling eyes, wagging his finger playfully.

"Well, I learned from the best," Harry shot back, tilting his chin up arrogantly, only able to maintain that expression for a second before breaking into a mischievous smile.

"Why I outta—just watch, I'll give you an embarrassing song to perform next week," he warned.

"Be careful, Harry," Cedric joked. "He holds your future in his hands."

"Oh, please forgive my insolence, O Great and Noble Master of Rock," Harry deadpanned, trying to keep his face straight and serious. "Teach me your ways, so I can achieve eternal glory and fame."

"I don't know. I think we need a little more groveling in there. What do you say, Cedric?"

"Don't torture the poor guy," Cedric said.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Sirius replied, reaching out to squish Harry's cheeks. "How can I ever hurt this cute little face?"

His heart fluttered at the close contact but a heavy lead settled in his stomach, the words Sirius cooed at him a solid reminder that he only viewed Harry as a kid.

* * *

He felt lightheaded, and Harry vaguely wondered if everyone else was feeling the same way. The blinding lights made it so that he couldn't see much past the judges' seats, but he could definitely hear the audience. His blood still thrummed at the memory of the loud roars and ferocious clapping not even half an hour ago. His skin was sticky with sweat, but his breathing was finally under control. All around him, Harry saw the other contestants in similar states of exhaustion and exhilaration.

"Remember, voting will last until midnight, so make sure to vote for your favorite performance. And we will see you tomorrow," Gilderoy Lockhart exclaimed, flashing his trademark smile to the camera. The host blew an exaggerated kiss as the audience burst into loud applause. Harry could see Snape roll his eyes at his dramatics. As the outro music played, the contestants began to dance and wave at the camera, and Harry twirled Hermione around, the two bursting into bouts of laughter at their failed attempts. She struggled with her hair, some strands starting to frizz beneath the valiant onslaught of spray and bobby pins, but he still thought she looked nice. Beside him, Neville seemed to be out of his element as Luna and Ginny playfully encouraged him to dance with them.

The director gave a thumbs up, and immediately Sirius jumped off his seat, running up the stage and pulling his team members into a hug.

"Great job, guys," Sirius said, arms tightening around them. Harry hugged him back, trying not to enjoy it too much. He heard a giggle right next to his ear, and the soft floral perfume Ginny wore tonight tickled his nose. Seamus released a loud laugh, thumping the man on the back.

"You were worried for nothing, Sirius! Have faith in your members, mate," Seamus said, pulling away from the hug. The two teens followed his lead, with Harry reluctantly stepping out of Sirius's warm arms.

"And now we just wait for the results," Ginny said, biting her glossy lips and tugging at her straightened red hair.

"Hey! Turn that frown upside down," Seamus ordered, hands on his hips as he stared down at the girl. "No worrying tonight, alright? That goes for you, too, Harry. We're going to party hard until we can't even stand straight at tomorrow's filming."

Sirius roared with laughter. "And this is the reason why I wanted you on my team," he barked out, clapping him on the shoulder. "After party, here we come!"

Their mentor threw his arms in the air, ushering them all off the stage.

The next evening all twelve contestants were back on stage, and this time, the euphoria was replaced by a cold dose of reality, the coming realization that this might be the very last time they could stand under these lights. Harry felt the familiar sense of lightheadedness, caused by anxiety unlike the adrenaline rush of last night. His hands and feet were numb, and he couldn't shake off the persistent chill that clung to him like a second skin. If anything, it seemed to get colder the longer he stood on the stage, watching warily as the other contestants took off with relieved sighs when their names were called. And then it was only him and Ginny.

He felt a smaller hand reach out, taking a hold of his own. His eyebrows rose as he looked down at Ginny's shaky smile, her eyes a watery brown. Harry squeezed her hand, ducking his head and hoping for the best for them both. The dramatic music played with Lockhart dragging out the results as much as possible, building the tension higher and higher. Harry couldn't feel his hand anymore; Ginny was gripping too hard, her nails digging into his skin. In the back of his mind, he hoped she didn't break skin. He didn't want to deal with a bloody hand on top of everything.

"And the one who will be staying…is…"

Harry waited with bated breath. All he could feel was Ginny's hand in his, the steel grip the only thing keeping him grounded. The blinding lights suddenly seemed too much, and he shut his eyes tight, focusing only on his shallow breaths, heart pounding loudly in his ears. And when he opened his eyes again, Harry inhaled sharply, seeing Sirius watching with an intense expression on his handsome face.

"Harry Potter!"

He found himself with an armful of Ginny, his vision filled with red. It was all he could see. The first thing he felt was wetness. There were tears trailing down her cheeks, catching on her curled lashes, smearing across his own skin when she leaned in, pressing her pretty lips to the spot just under his left eye.

"Congratulations," she said, voice breathy but words sincere. Ginny pulled back, still with her arms wrapped around him, tears shining on her face, and Harry thought she had never looked more beautiful. He tugged her back into a hug, resting his head against hers and finally letting his tears fall.

He startled, looking up to meet soft gray eyes.

"You guys did good," he said in a low voice and offering all the assurances they needed, hand going up to ruffle Ginny's hair, making the girl cry even more.

After promises to stay in touch with Ginny and the rounds of comforting words and pats from the other contestants, Harry leaned against a wall, staring blankly into space. He felt numb now that it was over. That was the closest he ever got to being sent home. So lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice the figure in front of him until a hand landed on his head. Sirius gave him a half smirk before settling beside him, crossing his arms over his chest.

"How you feeling?"

Harry shrugged, looking down at the black combat boots. They were really uncomfortable, and he wanted nothing more than to shove them off and rest his weary feet. But he remained standing.

"Fine," he answered shortly. Sirius hummed noncommittally.

"Even though you were in the bottom two?"

Harry flinched at the mention. He did exactly as Sirius said to do, practicing a song out of his comfort zone that appealed to his mentor's edgy nature. He wore torn clothes, showing off his smooth tanned skin, driving much of the female audience members in a tizzy. Harry had shifted in discomfort at first, but he agreed because Sirius knew more about stuff like this since he had more experience (and another part of him went through with it to please Sirius). But maybe he should have said no. Clearly this rocker vibe wasn't for him. He couldn't sacrifice his own ideals and jump whenever Sirius beckoned him to. He wasn't a dog, for crying out loud!

Determined, Harry straightened up.

"Actually, I don't want to do this anymore."

Sirius looked at him curiously with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't want to do something just because you said so," Harry continued, voice rising as he gained confidence. "I want a choice, and I want to be heard, and these clothes are really uncomfortable, and I'd rather burn these shoes than wear them again!"

He was breathing hard when he ended his rant, feeling anxious now that he said his piece. Sirius stared at him with an unreadable expression before he smiled.

"Well, why didn't you just say so?" he said lightly, throwing an arm over Harry's shoulder and pulling him close. Sirius looked down at him, and Harry swore those grey eyes softened before pale fingers reached out to stroke the spot where Ginny kissed him. There was a curious frown on his lips as he did so. But before he could think too much on it, Sirius pulled back, grabbing Harry's wrist.

"Come on, let's go!"

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, letting Sirius drag him down the hallway.

"To burn those shoes, of course!"

That forced a disbelieving laugh out of him. "I wasn't being serious," he said with an astounded huff.

"Well that's what we're doing now. Come on, off with those shoes."

* * *

Harry let out a sigh when the red light clicked off; he was perfectly fine performing on a stage, but there was something just a tad unnerving about a camera recording him. There were no scripts or song lyrics to fall back on, just him and Sirius in a coaching session with the camera crew filming a little snippet to be aired later.

Sirius sent him a smirk, seeing the tension leave his shoulders. He gave a consoling pat to the dark head of hair, and Harry bit back the frown forming on his lips.

"There's no need to get all nervous in front of the camera," Sirius said, making his way across the room to plop on the couch. He gestured at Harry to follow his move. Harry stepped away from the music stand, sitting next to Sirius, and when he made no move to scoot away, the teen sidled on closer until their thighs brushed against each other. All he got was a quirked eyebrow for the daring move.

"Maybe I wanted us to be alone," Harry replied cheekily. And as he leaned in, Harry knew he didn't imagine the darkening of those grey eyes.

"I don't think you know what you're getting yourself into," he said, voice low and husky.

Harry hummed in acquiescence. "But isn't that what makes it fun?"

"Careful," Sirius warned, snaking a hand through those messy locks of dark hair and pulling Harry close enough that they shared the same air. "You're playing with fire."

"I'm not scared of getting burned."


End file.
